


The Spice of Life is Love

by That_Familiar_Feeling



Series: Quizsnacks [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Chili Recipe not included, Keith centric, Keith's dad - Freeform, Voltron Zine, Zine: Quizsnacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_Familiar_Feeling/pseuds/That_Familiar_Feeling
Summary: With the zine's completion now announced I get to upload my pieces for Quizsnacks!! Our Voltron Cookbook that got finished just a little bit ago with deliveries.Working on the zine was an absolute pleasure, and I'm SUPER FREAKING HAPPY that I get  whole book of recipes to try, and to have been given an opportunity to put not one but TWO pieces into a book!!!So with that, and a hearty thank you to the mods-- Here's my first piece! Based on the Chili recipe in the book, Keith and his  Chili, featuring some gentle family bonding of both past and present.
Relationships: Keith & Keith's Father (Voltron), Keith & Team Voltron
Series: Quizsnacks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579036
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	The Spice of Life is Love

When Keith was a little boy, he and his father had three traditions.

The first, every evening and morning there was “quiet time”. Keith was always an active kid, but his mind would run circles before he even got up or it would clamber all over the place when he laid down. So to counter it, the pair would sit and watch cartoons together in the morning and then read a book at night. It was their way of bonding and settling his overactive mind.

The second, no matter what - they made time to go camping at least once a month. The desert around their house was vast, and by the time he was six Keith knew how to scale rock and tread water with ease. Their favorite spot was at the top of the range. A flat piece of sandy ground with a singular old tree that slumped over and created the perfect star-gazing perch.

The third, was Chili Day.

At the end of the month, every month, for years… Keith would wake up and jump out of bed with all the joy and mirth a child could ever need. His father would already be up at at em, toiling away in the garden behind the house. They had an extensive herb collection close to the backdoor and fresh tomato plots on either side of the gravel walk. They would spend all morning outside collecting the vegetables for the big cast iron pot his dad set out over a wood burning fire. They traded fresh veggies and salted jerky with a neighbor a good few miles away- in return they got fresh milk and beans and the harder to get fruits.But most importantly of all was the freshly butchered steak. Simple bartering that Keith was always excited to hop into the truck for. 

At home they prepared the chili, cutting and dicing and grinding up all the ingredients. Keith was allowed to use the sharp knife and get everything ready right alongside his dad. It was a whole day dedicated to the sharp and clean scent of ingredients and spice and he would go to sleep completely exhausted, still tasting the chili spice on the back of his tongue. 

His dad would check on the chili outside all night, and in the morning there were two stoneware bowls of it waiting for breakfast on the porch. Right alongside some fresh juice and homemade cinnamon rolls.

Keith remembered those days with nothing but fondness and content. He could still clearly feel the burn of spice on his tongue and the burn of sun on his skin.

But those memories...they fade when you don’t refresh them.

Which is how he found himself half awake standing in a too--bright kitchen. His mind had been going into hyperdrive with mistakes and failures and longing. This was his last ditch effort to avoid just training until he collapsed. 

Even if he could remember the basics of a chili, he had no idea how to translate that over to the weird alien produce they had in their supplies or cupboards. How Hunk managed to convert all of it into edible sustenance was beyond him, and Keith made a sleepy mental note to thank him more often for the meals.

He figured the basics were: Meat, Spice, Tomatoes. Anything else would be thrown in after the main elements...which took him two hours to properly source out. Something neon teal that tasted like a harvest orange tomato, something _vaguely_ beef like in taste, and a whole heaping of alien spice to cover up the unfamiliar colors and tastes. It was enough to satisfy the faint memory he had.

Before he got any further, with the pot on the stove simmering away at the lowest setting, Keith sat at the little table in the corner and rested his forehead against the cool surface. He just needed a little break, just a little one. Surely he would remember more if he closed his eyes and thought it over.

Which is how he woke up to a _mess_.

When he cracked his eyes opens, he was assaulted with three things:

First, the entire kitchen had been destroyed by sauce and decimated supply bins. The walls didn’t even survive, a large splotch of very red _something_ leaving a claim on the _ceiling_. The sink was piled with used pots and pans and cooking utensils, and the stove had two new additions of bubbling burgundy colored chili.

Second, it smelled like _bliss_. Earthy and rich with a tang of fruit and savory sauce. Something extremely spicy tried to dig into his nose while something sweet and doughy made his mouth start watering. Judging by the counter, it looked as though several people had tried to all combine their very opinionated chili recipes together into one concoction.

And third, what woke him up was the clatter of a pale white and blue bowl being placed in front of his sleeping face. It was accompanied by a large plate of what looked like a mix between cinnamon rolls and _Andagi_ with something pink being sprinkled over it. There was a large glass of what he knew to be some simple juice to round it all off.

Altogether the simple place seating sent a jolt through him. All at once he was six again and sitting on a porch swing with his dad, listening to a radio and laughing at the lost cattle birds…

But that didn’t make him cry. No, what broke the dam was the happy faces gathered at the table with him. Half were covered in flour and sauce, the other half already tucking into their bowls with expectant smiles and grins. Each bowl had a little bit more of one ingredient or another depending on the eater.

Keith vocally blamed the spice in the room for his sudden tears. He was met with laughs and knowing smiles.

Needless to say, it became the first of many new traditions.


End file.
